"Carey, M.V. - The Three Investigators 15 - The Mystery of the Flaming Footprints" - читать интересную книгу автора (Carey M.V)

"Someone was searching the office, and I was locked in," he said.

Jupiter surveyed the boy. He was just about Jupe's age. "You must be The Potter's guests," Jupiter announced.

"I amа.а.а. uhа.а.а. but, who are you, anyway?" demanded the boy. "And where's my grandfather?"

"Grandfather?" echoed Jupiter. He looked around for a chair. There was none, so he sat on the stairs.

"Mr Alexander Potter!" snapped the boy. "This is his house, isn't it? I asked at the filling station in Rocky Beach, and they saidа.а.а."

Jupe put his elbows on his knees and rested his chin in his hands. His head hurt. "Grandfather?" he said again. "You mean, The Potter has a grandson?"

Jupiter couldn't have been more surprised if someone had told him that The Potter kept a trained dinosaur in his basement.

The woman put on her sunglasses, decided that it was too dark in the hall, and took the glasses off again. She had a nice face, Jupiter decided. "I don't know where The Potter is," Jupe confessed. "I saw him this morning, but he isn't here now."

"Is that why you were climbing through the window?" demanded the woman. "Tom," she said to the boy, "call the police!"

The boy named Tom looked around, bewildered.

"There's a public telephone on the highway," said Jupiter politely, "just outside the garden."

"You mean my father doesn't have a phone?" demanded the woman.

"If your father is The Potter," said Jupe, "he does not have a telephone."

"Tom!" The woman fumbled in her purse.

"You go and call, Mum," said Tom. "I'll stay here and watch this fellow!"

"I have no intention of leaving," Jupiter assured them.

The woman went, slowly at first, then running down the path towards the highway.

"So The Potter is your grandfather!" said Jupe.

The boy named Tom glared at him. "What's so weird about it?" he demanded. "Everybody's got a grandfather."

"True," admitted Jupiter. "However, everyone does not have a grandson, and The Potter isа.а.а. well, he's an unusual person."

"I know. He's an artist." Tom stared around at the shelves of ceramics. "He sends us stuff all the time," he told Jupiter.

Jupiter digested this in silence. How long, he wondered, had The Potter been in Rocky Beach? Twenty years, at least, according to Aunt Mathilda. Certainly he had been well established long before Aunt Mathilda and Uncle Titus had opened The Jones Salvage Yard. The distracted young woman could be his daughter. But, in that case, where had she been all this time? And why had The Potter never spoken of her?

The young woman returned, stuffing a purse back into her handbag. "There'll be a police car right here," she announced.

"Good," said Jupiter Jones.

"And you'll have some explaining to do!" she told Jupiter.